


You Deserve to Be Saved

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [61]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Meetings, Hopeful Ending, Hunter Castiel, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Vampire Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6774628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No. Not guy. Dean had seen his teeth - his fangs. The man that attacked him, that bit his own wrist and forced his blood into Dean’s mouth before scampering off…he was a vampire. </p><p>And what, now Dean was becoming one of them?</p><p>Oh god, no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Deserve to Be Saved

**Author's Note:**

> Saw some gifs on Tumblr then re-watched part of 'Live Free or Twihard' and I had some vampire!Dean feels to let out, apparently...

Everything was _so loud_. The noise of cars passing by the alley where Dean sat, curled against a brick wall, sounded like a freight train. And the _people._ God. They were talking and fucking and their televisions or laptops were blaring crappy canned laughter and tinny jingles and…it was too much.

“Fuck,” Dean swore as he covered his ears and squeezed his eyes closed. He rocked forward, not giving a shit that the cracked pavement beneath him was dirty and wet. It also smelled rank - probably because he was near an open dumpster - but even worse was the iron tang of blood smeared around his lips. What had that guy done to him?

No. Not _guy_. Dean had seen his teeth - his fangs. The man that attacked him, that bit his own wrist and forced his blood into Dean’s mouth before scampering off…he was a vampire. 

And what, now Dean was becoming one of them?

His stomach roiled and he heaved. So much for a night out on the town. The thought had him hiccuping hysterically. What was he, in some sort of Twilight Zone? Monsters didn’t exist. They couldn’t.

Then how could he explain the itching of his gums? Dean sat up and felt in his mouth. When he pressed down on a tender spot, a sharp fang descended.

Oh god. The word ‘no’ looped through his mind, or maybe he was whispering it out loud. He could barely breathe. How was this even possible? He’d been living a lie, and now…he would become a murderer. If real vampires were anything like the ones he’d read about in stories, he’d need to feed. That meant _killing_  someone.

As revolting as the idea was, Dean realized the world had quieted, and all he could hear was the varying heartbeats of passersby. A jogging woman’s heart thumped at a steady but elevated clip, while a stooped old man’s heart pounded slowly, wearily. A mother and her two kids had gentle, easy beats, though the mother’s spiked when she noticed Dean staring at them from the alley. She hurried her kids along the sidewalk and they disappeared from his sight.

At least he was still himself for the moment. The urge to feed - to kill - was growing, but it wasn’t strong enough to overwhelm him. Not yet. Still, Dean sensed that it would soon become impossible to ignore, and then there’d be no hope of remaining in his right mind.

Dean used the wall for support as he staggered to his feet. He refused to hurt anyone. For a brief moment, he thought of calling his family. His mom would drop everything to pick him up, he knew, but would Dean be able to control himself around her?

No. This was something he had to take care of by himself.

Dean glanced at the sidewalk, where the sun was shining. Was it just a myth? He inhaled a deep breath and stumbled out of the alley. He stood on the bright, sunlit sidewalk for a moment, disappointed. But then a car flew by at breakneck speed, and he knew what to do. Hopefully it’d look more like an accident than suicide.

Dean waited until the sidewalk emptied, then stepped into the street, pretending not to hear the harsh beeping of a car coming up behind him. His heart pounded and tears filled his eyes, but it was for the best. He wouldn’t become a murderer.

“What are you doing? Get out of the road!” cried a masculine voice before Dean was roughly yanked out of the way. A car passed within inches of him. 

Dean thrashed against the stranger’s arms as the man dragged him back to the safety of the sidewalk, where they were blessedly alone. “Let me go!” he cried. The man’s heartbeat was so close and so loud…

“Why, so you can kill yourself?”

“No, you don’t get it. I have to. If I don’t–”

Dean spun and came face to face with the grizzled, blue-eyed face of a man slightly older than him wearing a long, tan trench coat. 

“Please let me help you,” the man said. His voice was deep, and almost hoarse.

“Why? You won’t believe me,” Dean said. A tear streaked down his cheek as he tried not to think about burying his fangs into the stranger’s neck. “I have to do this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to become a monster.”

The man’s eyes widened for a second, but then narrowed as he seemed to notice something on Dean’s face. “Is that blood around your mouth?”

Dean hung his head. “Yeah. Get this: I’m a…I’m a vampire.” He braced himself for laughter, but instead, the man’s expression only hardened.

“Were you just turned?”

Dean blinked, not expecting such a serious question. “Um. Yeah.”

“Have you fed yet?”

He let out a huff. “No. But I…I _want_  to. So bad…”

“What’s your name?”

“You actually believe me?”

“Yes, I do. Now can you tell me your name?”

“It’s Dean. And how the hell do you believe me?”

The man flashed a smile. “I’m a hunter of all things that go bump in the night.”

Dean swallowed. “So you’re telling me there aren’t just vampires out there?”

“Yes. And Dean, I have good news.” He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and squeezed. “There’s a cure for vampirism, but only for those who haven’t fed yet. You can still be saved.”

“What?” Dean’s breaths whooshed out of him. His knees threatened to buckle as he felt weak. He’d almost…and he could’ve just…

“Dean? Stay with me,” the man said. He supported Dean with both hands on his shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. Do you hear me?”

“Y-yeah, I hear you…um…?”

“Castiel. My name is Castiel. If you follow me to my motel, I can prepare the ingredients to turn you back into a human. You’re going to have to trust me. Can you do that?”

Dean had only just met the man, and had gone through enough trauma in the past few hours to warrant a lifetime of therapy, but still, he had a good feeling about Castiel. The hunter had saved his life once, hadn’t he? 

And there was something about him, something earnest in his expression, in the way he clenched Dean’s shoulders tightly, reassuringly.  

“Okay,” Dean said. “Yeah, I can trust you.”

Castiel nodded. He patted Dean’s shoulders before he withdrew his hands. “Good, good. Because Dean?” Their gazes met. “You deserve to be saved.”


End file.
